Short Weakling Poems
Short Weakling Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Weakling by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Weakling by length and keyword.
a seeker discredit-er
a "immature weakling"
weenie weenier -political thumb sucker
FORM: Kenning Poem Example
04/01/18
written by James Edward Lee Sr.©2018
Form:
I am a mirror.
I have no voice to project.
I only reflect what others see me as.
Pathetic, a weakling.
I’m losing my mind.
And I’m afraid, this time, they may be right.
Form:
A burger with fries that are fit for a king
That's not gonna lose weight you big ding a-ling
For a slimmer bod
Give a negative nod
No junk food, you'll be a 98 pound weakling
What does it take to drain a swamp?
A weakling or someone with strength and pomp?
How deep in the mire must this one go
To effect a change from the muck we know?
To drain a swamp, takes grit and a STOMP!
A burger with fries are fit for a king
But it's not gonna lose weight you big ding a-ling
For a slimmer bod
Give a negative nod
To junk food and wind up a 98 pound weakling
© Jack Ellison 2015
We all knew a fellow named ‘Tiny Tim’
Fit as a fiddle, though extremely slim
Poor Tim had weakling muscles
And needed a side hustle
So he spent all his spare time in the gym
hey
i just
came
to play
no need
for such
words
you
are a ninety
nine pound
for pound
weakling
throwing
beach sand
and urine
scented litter
in other's
eyes but
i'm better
than that
jeff stop
dogging
my
cat
Form:
Gusts of wind have taken a rest,
their remaining weakling breath
has endured offering a last chill;
I shiver a little seeking warmth,
watching the big sea with blue
waves: a tender memory
of the most lovely eyes!
Out of the coral water,
a voice submerges-wait!
I detest cowards who cower at night's darkness,
afraid of shadows and their own demons.
Fear is a thief that steals courage
and leaves only cowardice in its wake.
Be a warrior, not a weakling.
Face your fears,
and let the darkness fuel your lights fire.
Weakness is not an option.
She could not eat any faster if she had three mouths.
I am in Paris.
Gulping petite delicacies into my dessert hole.
They might escape if I slow down.
AMERICAN! a sixty-five pound weakling says in a disgusted tone.
I give him my American sign of disapproval of his disapproval.
He gives me the same sign back in French.
We both laugh.
You got the wrong girl
I am not who you think I am
Some weakling that can be put aside
Protected
By some same weakling hands
I cannot be handled
the same way that you handled some others
You think I am weak
But you are weak yourself
Irritating
To say the least
Don't be like a don dapper
Total turn off
Quit your fakefullness
Leave your cheesiness
And be
Truth to him is nothing but
what you are able
to dupe the unsuspecting
into really believing,
and moral scruples are but
sentimental rubbish
soothing soft the cowed conscience
of the do-gooding weakling.
You little monstrous beast
Sucking the life out of me
Leaving me with a disease
No matter how hard I clap for your death
You always sing your rebellious lullaby
Dancing round my ears
Showing off how hard it is to be killed
You wait for my weakling body to heal
And then you strike again
With your venomous sting
Why not strike in the morning?
When I can clearly see your tiny little body
For you will taste death that day
One can a secret leak
While one didn't dare speak
All over seeming weak
But could fight for a week;
At a weakling not spit
But against A Camp fit
Live as needy prophet;
Starved eyes not on profit...
One can drop Bad Habits,
Yet much linked with their bits;
Record a lot of hits
But of Bob's Scattered wits;
Complete assignments fast
But later take The Last;
Meet a friend and walk past,
Friend dead, flag at half mask.
Wrong in taking risks, acts too fragile like the fish
Highest level of this strong will ends in a wish
Improper experience, lacking growth, and childish
Mama is always needed for things to flourish
Papa must stay or else progress will diminish
Indented ability will always demolish
Strength so minute, for a weakling to be sluggish
Harboured fears, always making confidence feverish
Expected
Something less
Maybe
Something gained
Expected
Nothing more
Nothing less
Than a cowardly move
Made
From a broken weakling
Hidden
Tattered and broken
Masquerade
Shattered and unspoken
Something
Taught me not to cry
Someone
Caught me before the fall
Before I could die
Expected
Someone to hold me
Maybe
Something a little more
Expected
Someone to love me
Someone to show me
What
Love could be